Episode IX: Our Last Hope
by dancingpenguin57
Summary: For six years the First Order has kept the galaxy under its heel. The Order is ruthless, relentless, its reach now extending beyond that of even the Empire at its height. The Resistance is gone - extinguished during the Battle of Crait. How can hope ever spark again? [Reylo] [Canon-Compliant]
1. Landscapes

Have you ever thought about space? Truly sat down and tried to conceive of it? Plenty of wise creatures have tried to wrap their minds around the immensity of the vastness of that void, the frightening concept of so much _nothing_ … and plenty of them have gone a little bit mad from it.

There's only one simple truth: the void is a lie. Even the blackest patch of sky has an invisible luminosity, if you know what you're looking for. Frenetic vibrations of energy, seemingly random, but there are those who are able to make out the patterns.

And then there are the whispers. Had they always been there? Sometimes soft, so soft that you can scarcely imagine it. Sometimes violent tides that threaten to tear apart the fragile threads they travel along. They wax and wane, but they never cease, and the void has no choice but to flex and stretch to accommodate them.

Leia couldn't hear the whispers. That part didn't belong to her. But the Force flowed through her all the same. She felt the vibrations moving through the endless expanse of space, even here, underground in her bunker.

She ended her meditation and returned her attention to the long list of numbers in front of her. This was a different sort of code, and one that she was far less equipped to decrypt. Her fingers began to dial out a number on her holopad before she had even registered her intent to make the call.

He answered her immediately, as he always did. The miniature hologram looked up at her deferentially. She was surprised to see him dressed casually, in light of the circumstances.

"General Organa."

She was too exhausted for the niceties. "I don't understand the message here, Poe. You're going to have to give it to me straight."

"What I've sent you is all of the intel we have about the situation on Coruscant. To put it lightly: it's not good. The planet is too big; the city has too many eyes. Back in your day that might have made it a good target — your guys were always able to hide in plain sight. But things are different now. Riskier."

"Great risk often breeds great reward. The wretchedness of the capital is _exactly_ why having one of our people there is important. We could increase our rate of gathering intel exponentially."

He hesitated, just for a moment. "I think it would be safest if we were to rein in our ambitions, General. For now, at least. We don't want to get cocky."

Leia found herself feeling equal parts pride and sadness. Poe had proven himself the great leader she had always known him capable of being, but she missed the wisecracking flyboy who had never been afraid. Leia knew that her role as a teenage rebel had caused her to grow up faster than she would have liked, but she took that in stride in hope that others wouldn't have to do the same. And yet here she was forty years later, fighting that same fight, and dragging others with her.

She made herself smile at him. "I agree. I leave the details to you, Admiral."

"Thank you, Leia. Say hi to Chewie."

Leia stood and stretched, wincing when she heard her back crack. Six years confined to this bunker had left her feeling the weight of her age. She spent far too much time hunched over her desk, but if she didn't do it someone else would have to.

She was the hub of what remained of the Resistance. All of their communications and all of their intel flowed through this bunker. After Crait the dregs of the Resistance were deposited in groups of three onto the most remote planets they could find. Leia's was the most remote of all. This planet didn't even have a name; at least not one she knew. Her mother Breha had built this bunker back before the rise of the Empire, when she had become concerned about her husband's increasing involvement in the Clone Wars. Anyone who knew of its existence had been on Alderaan when — _no_ , she told herself, _not now. The Resistance. You were thinking about the Resistance numbers_. Leia was the only one who knew the locations of every base. It was only fair that she be the one put at greatest risk.

She walked through the bunker towards the kitchen, one hand massaging her stiff shoulder. Chewbacca was cooking — or, rather, he was attempting to. A porg sat on his shoulder, chewing mindlessly on a lock of the Wookiee's thick fur. Another was sitting on the ladle being used to stir their dinner, constantly threatening to overbalance and tumble down into the pot. The Wookiee looked exasperated, but utterly resigned to his fate.

R2-D2 was there too, the most sensible of the bunch. One of its many drill accessories had been repurposed as a vegetable cutter. Leia wondered what the droid thought, after having seen so much battle and excitement over its long life, to be now relegated to simple domestic tasks such as this.

The cosy scene began to fall apart when Chewbacca decided he had done enough stirring and balanced his ladle against the side of the pot. That was enough to finally cause the porg to lose his balance, and he came dangerously close to contaminating their dinner. Artoo reached out a mechanical pincer to catch him just in time, but it was enough to cause both porgs to begin squawking and flapping ridiculously. Chewie roared in consternation, reaching out for them, but they were in such a state that they eluded his grasp. Leia simply watched them, her expression unchanging.

Leia was no stranger to heartache, but she had hope. She had lost it once, momentarily, but the Force itself had reached out and brought her brother to her to restore it. How could she not believe? It was this certainty that helped her to look past all the many, many things that she had lost to appreciate the precious things that she had kept. She watched the scene in the kitchen rapidly escalate to complete chaos and thought of how she would gladly give her life a hundred times over for these dear friends of hers. Even for the droid. Maybe _especially_ for the droid.

"Chewie," she interrupted. "CHEWIE."

The scene froze as he turned to look at her. She chuckled.

"I'm going to head up — no, no, don't worry, I'm not going out. I just want to look for a while."

He warbled his assent.

She climbed the ladder with more difficulty than she would ever admit to herself. One hundred and fifty-seven rungs. As she heaved herself up the very last one she found the small landing platform, and above that a tiny slit of a window, less than the size of her two palms together. This was her only portal to the rest of the galaxy, and she wouldn't let herself think about how measly it was.

Faint starlight touched down on her cheeks as she looked up into that vast expanse and opened herself once again to the steady flux of the Force. She spiralled up out of herself to join it, enjoying the fleeting freedom beyond the confines of her bunker. Higher and higher she soared, and she was no longer Princess General Leia Organa-Solo; she simply _was_.


	2. Control

Hux stood to attention and began reciting the list of systems that had been searched that week, utterly exhausted by the faraway look in Kylo Ren's holographic eyes. This was a waste of time, and they both knew it.

If he were honest with himself he would have admitted that he had been pleasantly surprised by the amount of free rein that Ren had allowed him these last six years. Expectations were laid out, and so long as Hux endeavoured to meet them Ren did not seem to overly care for the particulars. They had not even met in person since the Battle of Crait. Hux was sent to re-establish Coruscant as the Imperial capital, while Ren spent his time building and then inhabiting his immense flagship. Hux neither knew nor cared how he filled his days.

There was only one thing they clashed on: the Resistance. Ren was utterly obsessed with them, making constant demands to pour more of their resources into hunting them down and stamping them out. Hux didn't wholly disagree, however he found more value in focusing their efforts on controlling their 'loyal' subjects. The recruiting power of the Resistance would soon die out if they made the very idea of resisting an impossibility.

But Ren was unmovable on this point, and so Hux droned on with his scheduled report.

Suddenly Ren's eyes shifted to some place above and behind Hux's head, and the transmission was cut. Many of their conversations ended this way.

Hux's shoulders dropped and he beckoned forward the young woman who had waited in the doorway, out of range of the camera. Commander Ozera handed him a black leather folio with a single piece of paper inside. It was a deplorably archaic way of transmitting information, but it was untraceable, and secrecy was of the utmost importance.

He read the message inside and was so pleased with it, and with her for bringing it to him, that he read it again out loud. Then he removed a silver cylinder from his pocket and zapped the paper with a burst of plasma, incinerating it. Ozera watched him with rapt fascination.

"You may speak," he said finally, congratulating himself on the generosity of the offer.

Her voice was a breathy whisper. "We've done it, then. Our time has _finally_ come."

Hux immediately regretted his kindness toward her. "No, foolish girl. Now that development is complete we must await mass manufacturing. We cannot reveal ourselves until we are equipped to ensure victory. Nothing can be left to chance."

* * *

"Nothing can be left to chance. I can keep a change in leadership quiet for a little while, but I can't stop the flow of shuttles for more than a day without officers being sent out here to investigate. There's no point going ahead until we're certain."

Finn saw the sense of the words through his impatience. He nodded to the Captain — Hatchet, Finn called him, having intentionally forgotten his designation number — and sighed.

Before they had parted Leia had given Finn the mission of seeking out First Order soldiers that could be persuaded to their cause. For eighteen long months he had made no headway whatsoever; but just when he had begun to give up hope he began to find little pockets of weakness, and one-by-one he made contact with dissenters. They formed covert networks amongst themselves and his mini-rebellion began to snowball until he had contacts in almost a quarter of the major systems. Most of them were low-ranking soldiers like he had once been, but there were a few key players as well, and Finn made sure to keep their identities carefully hidden from each other.

Finding Hatchet had been Finn's greatest success. The Captain was the highest ranking soldier on Naboo, which just so happened to be where the First Order sent their shuttles for maintenance. The massive gas deposits in the planet's core provided for incredibly rapid refuelling. The turnover of shuttles and therefore of personnel was massive, which made it a tempting target for infiltration.

Taking the maintenance hangar along with the precious ships inside would be such a huge victory for the Resistance that Finn had reluctantly moved his base here from Mon Cala. The water planet had been his home for four years; the only home he had ever had, really.

He thought of the underwater city and the friends he had left there as he walked through the night from the rendezvous point back to his base. He had one more thing to do before finally turning in for the night. He took out his holopad and connected to a secure channel that was only able to transmit audio.

"You're late," Rey's voice said.

"Sorry. I was meeting with Hatchet. He doesn't think we're ready, so… that's not happening yet. In fact I don't have anything new to tell you this time."

"I'm glad you called anyway." She sounded like she was smiling.

"How are you? And the kids?"

"We're okay. It's warm here right now," she said, and he was unsurprised by her vagueness. She never told him particulars; all he knew was that the four of them were somewhere safe, alone.

"Bridget is trying to build her own saber, but we don't have any plas— um, Finn, I have to go. Talk to you next time."

The transmission cut off, and Finn chuckled to himself. A lot of their conversations ended that way.

Part of him still couldn't believe that Rey was a _Jedi_ , with students of her own. In those first few days after Crait the three of them had often sat quietly together on the Falcon — him, Rey, Rose — and she told them about Luke Skywalker, and the Force, and the things that she had discovered she could do. It wasn't for him, though. In truth he had been a little jealous, but it didn't diminish how proud he was of her.

He was still smiling when he climbed into bed and sleep took him.


	3. Betrayal

Hux was relieved to step into the cool air-conditioned room after spending six full minutes exposed to the humidity of the jungle. He brushed down his coat unnecessarily before allowing the serving droid to lift it from his shoulders.

The doctor opened his arms as if to embrace him, but kept a respectful distance. "Welcome, General. I do hope the journey was pleasant for you?"

"Not at all," sniffed Hux. "I haven't had cause to travel this far from the core in some time. Though I suppose it is a necessary sacrifice, for the safety of your laboratory."

The doctor nodded earnestly. "Indeed sir, very true indeed. I do apologise. It is, as you say, a necessity."

He bowed reverently, sweeping a hand before him to encourage Hux to pass. Hux didn't hesitate to move through the atrium, following another droid.

"Tell me of your progress," Hux prompted.

The doctor's smarmy attitude faded and his words took on an air of scientific precision as he began to detail the properties of the virus. He spoke at length of the process of the initial restoration of the ancient disease by his predecessor, of his own vision to perfect with science what nature had neglected, and of his unwavering assurance of their ultimate success. He didn't pause in his speech as the droid continued to lead them through the compound to the production bay.

By the time he ended his diatribe Hux was getting impatient. "Yes, thank you, Dwyer. I would like to hear now of your manufacturing timeline. We must not reveal ourselves until we have sufficient supply to hold every system in our grasp."

"The development was the lengthy part of the process, sir. My droids are swift, tireless workers, as you see before you. Forty-three days is all I need to meet your very reasonable needs."

"Very good," Hux admitted reluctantly. "You will inform me when your stores are at fifty percent of target. Then I will do my part, and sever us from our greatest obstacle."

* * *

"We're almost ready. Hatchet has slowly altered the Trooper roster so that all of his men are on the same shift. So far it hasn't raised any suspicion. We could go for it now… but it'd be risky without some sort of diversion to slow the shuttle turnover. Problem is we can't figure out _what_ we could do to cause that. We could be waiting forever for an opportunity."

"Great risk often breeds great reward," Poe said solemnly, before quickly adding "but take all necessary precautions!"

"So which is it then?" Finn laughed.

Poe smiled, and made sure that his voice reflected it. "Do what you think is right. I trust you, Finn."

Poe ended the call and walked towards the mess, still smiling.

The rebels (Finn, the people living here in this base, and all the others in the seven like it strewn throughout the galaxy) had become his own personal form of oxygen. Poe had always fought for democracy, and he would continue that fight with anyone who shared his vision, but without _these_ people fighting alongside him any victory would have seemed hollow. Their numbers were still small, but they had grown steadily over the years, with consistent recruits and very few losses.

He was still bitter about losing Rey and the kids. She had become his closest partner over the three years that she spent here, until one day she decided to leave it all behind. The fact that he may have played a part in her desertion (as he saw it) made it even harder to swallow.

The two of them had taken a huge, stupid risk and gone into the city for supplies. They were desperate. Food was running low and their droids were becoming too well-recognised. Of course the day they made the journey coincided with a random Trooper spot check, and they had spent the afternoon engaged in an elaborate (but fortunately one-sided) game of cat-and-mouse, complete with multiple wacky disguises. When they were safely behind the treeline and out of sight of the city they fell against each other, laughing uproariously, and Poe had acted on pure instinct and moved in to kiss her. She recoiled from him instantly, and the moment passed, and he was relieved, because it wasn't what he truly wanted.

Poe had apologised more times than he could count, telling her that it hadn't meant anything, that it was just the heat of the moment — and it was true. Rey wasn't even his type. She initially seemed to take it in stride and they laughed it off together, but things between them changed after that. Rey became _weird_. He caught her staring into space multiple times a day. When he entered a room she would smile at him like always, and they'd begin talking, but after a few moments she would just get up and leave. A couple of times he was confident he overheard her talking to herself, her voice lowered conspiratorially so he couldn't make out the words.

Two months later they had found Bridget and she decided that having three Padawans justified her becoming a full-time teacher, or something, and she took off with them.

She had promised him before leaving that he could call her anytime he needed, but the betrayal stung, so he had stubbornly maintained radio silence. He knew she was still in contact with Finn and that she was doing okay.

Poe's mood lifted as he walked through the mess, good-naturedly slapping the backs of the men and women who _had_ stayed with him.

* * *

Kylo Ren stalked through his ship toward the communication center. There were very few people wandering the corridors at this hour; the second dinner seating was proceeding, and those who had attended the first had now retired to their personal quarters, as he should have. The disruption to his schedule was both unwelcome and unavoidable.

After six years he was used to Rey's unexpected interruptions, but today's had occurred at a most inopportune moment. He had been forced to leave his weekly meeting with Hux, and although he knew the conversation was a complete farce he felt it important to uphold the tradition; it was one of the ways he ensured that Hux remained aware of his place as Kylo Ren's subordinate.

Not that it had been completely necessary for him to leave; after all the briefing would not have contained any information that she didn't already know. But it was impossible for him to focus on the General _and_ on her.

He dismissed the surprised duty officer and looked around the stark room. He had expected to find a recording of Hux completing his report, but a cursory search revealed no such data. Irritated, he sat down at a terminal and opened the file which contained Hux's communication records. There were hundreds of imprints. Most of them he recognised as his weekly conversations with Hux, with timestamps showing connections of anywhere between ten and forty minutes. But sprinkled in amongst them were records of other transmissions: some mere seconds long, others in the range of a few minutes. Kylo Ren had not been privy to _these_ conversations.

Suspicion roiled within him, a fuse leading directly to his rage. He didn't ignite it yet. There may be an innocent explanation. Perhaps a well-meaning idiot had communicated with Hux on an administrative issue which they had thought to be below the Supreme Leader's notice.

He clenched his fist, enjoying the creak of the leather beneath his fingers. Whatever the truth was, he would soon discover it.


	4. Identity

He forewent his morning meditation to return to the communication center. The room was staffed by a single junior guard, as he had known it would be at this hour.

Without preamble Kylo Ren reached a hand out behind him, using the Force to manipulate the control panel to close the door. At the same time his other hand snaked toward the Trooper, entering his mind without hesitation.

He whirled through mercilessly, finding mostly mundane observations about how the boy had expected life on board the Resurrection to be a little more exciting. _Is this exciting enough for you?_ Kylo Ren taunted.

Finally he found something of interest — a memory. The boy _had_ spoken with Hux. Just once, on a morning much like this when he was alone in the center.

Hux had patched through unexpectedly. The boy had stood to attention and immediately reached for his comm to alert a more senior officer of the General's contact. Hux had reassured the boy that no such action was necessary, that in fact he had patched through to speak to _him_ , that he had very important information for him. Apparently the Supreme Leader's entire fleet was due to undergo a period of downtime to their transmission systems in order to complete necessary upgrades. This was to occur some time within the next two weeks, and none of this should be any cause for concern whatsoever, and he should disseminate this information among his peers so that whoever was on guard duty that night would not be alarmed. The boy had complied immediately; he was too simple to wonder why the General himself was calling to inform junior staff about routine maintenance.

Seconds after he released the boy's mind the door opened behind them and four officers entered, right on time for the morning shift.

"Take him to the brig," Kylo Ren said without looking at any of them. "High treason."

* * *

"Try again," Rey said encouragingly.

The young Mon Calamari looked up at her, his wide eyes troubled. "I've tried so many times, it's not working! Maybe I'm just not strong enough for this…"

Rey patted the grass in front of her, prompting him to sit, and he mirrored her cross-legged position.

"When I say 'try again' I don't mean 'try the same thing over and over'. You _are_ strong enough for this, Ka'jan — strong enough for a lot _more_ than this, actually — you just need to find the way that works, for you. Once you've found it you'll realise it was there all along."

The boy plucked aimlessly at a strand of grass, trying to take in her words but obviously still feeling broody.

"Let's try to find it together, then?" Rey said.

She decided to lead by example and so entered her meditation without waiting for his response. She felt him follow her a few seconds later, and they spent ten minutes enjoying the cool breeze.

"Okay," she said when they had returned, and he rose obediently.

He tried once more, and failed.

"It's alright," Rey said gently. "We can try again tomo—"

" _No_ ," Ka'jan protested. "I almost got it that time!"

He reached out his hand insistently, his face screwing with the equal forces of his concentration and his frustration, and just when she was about to tell him to call it off the staff leapt from the ground into his waiting hand. He looked over to her, beaming with pride, and she gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.

Rey stood to walk toward him, then knelt so their eyes were level.

"You used your anger to call it to you."

"Yes," Ka'jan said, his voice wavering with uncertainty, not understanding why she wasn't pleased by his success. "Is that bad?"

Rey looked behind him out to the ocean, wondering how to explain to him the things that she was still trying to understand herself.

"No," she said finally. "It's not _bad_. To be angry is to be hu— to be _alive_. That feeling is part of you, and you can embrace it if you like. But you can't lose yourself to it. Down that road leads a lot of pain, so no matter how powerful the dark side of the Force makes you feel in those moments, you can't ever trust it."

"But… if I can't trust in the Force then what can I trust?"

She turned back to him, smiling. "Trust _yourself_ , Ka'jan. You can be angry sometimes, or sad, or frightened, but as long as you never lose sight of yourself then you'll never get lost."

* * *

Kylo Ren stood on the bridge of the Resurrection, overlooking his capital. It was the first time he had laid eyes on Coruscant in over a year.

He kept his anger in check as best he could, because the men and women in this room were loyal to him — he was sure of it, had ransacked their minds before letting them anywhere near him — and were therefore his greatest and only asset right now.

But there was a limit to his patience.

"What is taking so long?"

Trooper PK-3939 — Captain Piker, as he was known — responded for the group. "Sir, forgive me, we are awaiting landing codes from the capital. You understand surely, sir, that a ship as magnificently large as this requires special preparations to be made before landing."

He understood the logic behind the words, but his gut continued to roll, disbelieving that the extensive delay was organic. Surely the Coruscant ground crew could have accommodated him by now. He was the _Supreme Leader_.

Ren's voice was strained. "Get my shuttle ready; I will make planetfall directly, and the rest of you will follow when arrangements are complete."

A female officer began to make contact with ground staff to inform them of the change of plan, and when Ren heard the response his blood began to boil.

"Shuttle? Uh, negative, negative, we have a reactor leak here now, give us a few—" and then static. The transmission hadn't been cut, it had been _jammed_.

The officer tapped at her terminal screen in confusion for a few moments before looking back and up at him, not quite meeting his gaze. "Our communications are offline, sir."

Ren's quick breaths were shallow and dangerously quiet. He knew now that he had made an incredible mistake by spending so much time hidden away from the galaxy on this ship. The First Order had been trained to take orders from Hux, not from him. He was nothing more than a shadow to these people. He had been an idiot to expect their loyalty.

Why else had Hux been so bold as to implement this strategy of his? It had been difficult to piece it all together — dozens of his traitorous crew had each held dozens of tiny morsels of information — but after three days of endless interrogations he had completed a rough picture of Hux's ambition. An airborne virus that slowly took control of the minds of its victims and turned them into pliant beasts. Ironically it now seemed that Kylo Ren was the only thing standing between Hux and an entire galaxy of mindless slaves.

At length he spoke.

"Turn around. Travel away from the Core; I don't care where. Do not engage anyone for any reason. I will be in my private quarters. Do not disturb me until I command otherwise."

Piker spoke up again as Ren turned to leave. "Supreme Leader, what of the prisoners in the brig? There are fifty-seven of them stored at present. I believe it was your plan to 'deal with them' — as you put it — when we reached the capital, however no—"

"Execute them," Ren interrupted without interrupting his stride.

"Right away, sir."

* * *

Rey checked in on the kids one last time before retiring to her own hut.

'Kids' wasn't the correct term for them, really. Elio was nineteen, Bridget a few years younger, and Ka'jan was quickly reaching the Mon Calamari equivalent of adolescence.

Rey knew that all three of them were more than capable of looking after themselves, just as she had done when she had been younger than Ka'jan. But they weren't alone in the deserts of Jakku; they were here together on Ahch-To, and they deserved to have someone watch over them.

She felt restless as she climbed into bed, and spent a long time staring at the ceiling.

Waiting.

Nothing happened. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone an entire day without feeling him.

She silently prayed that he was alright, and then wondered for the millionth time if hoping for his safety was the correct thing to do. Wouldn't the galaxy be better off if 'Kylo Ren' were vanquished? There would still be the disgusting General Hux to deal with, but he was a much more tangible enemy for the Resistance to focus on.

After another sleepless hour passed she fell into meditation, diving deep inside herself to the flame that burned steadily at her core. It was restless, too.

Finally she felt him at her periphery. He was so faint that in another lifetime she would have thought she had imagined him, but now his presence was familiar enough to be unmistakable. The slight flicker of awareness left her as quickly as it had come. It wasn't much. But it was enough to finally allow her to sleep.


	5. Gamble

Teena Ozera grumbled to herself, burying her pounding head further under the pillow. It wasn't enough to drown out the alarm filling the room.

"Stop," she mumbled groggily, and mercifully the blaring ceased.

She had nine minutes of reprieve before it began again, somehow sounding even more shrill.

She managed to pull herself up and into the 'fresher. Half an hour later she was sitting on her bed wrapped in a towel, staring with glazed eyes at the uniform hanging on her door, completely unsure how she would manage to get her uncooperative body into it.

Eventually she was moving through the crisp Coruscanti air to her office. She had missed breakfast, and her churning stomach wasn't impressed, but she had had little choice in the matter.

She stood to attention before her holocamera, taking the opportunity to pinch some colour into her cheeks before the connection resolved itself.

"General Hux."

"Commander." Hux's face was neutral; for him that was almost as good as a smile. "Your update?"

Teena paused, cursing herself. She hadn't even thought to look through the daily briefings to prepare herself. Hux had been gone for four days. She ran through her detailed reports of the first two and then fumbled her way through the weekend, when she had also been absent and had no idea what had happened.

Hux's expression twisted into his trademark sneer. "I'm impressed, Ozera..." (Her heart lifted. Perhaps she had succeeded?) "...by your multitasking ability." (Damn.) "It was so very good of you to keep tabs on operations in the capital while you were out gallivanting around Cantonica."

Teena's gaze dropped to the floor. She knew that anything she said now would only make things worse. _Happy birthday to me_ , she thought morosely.

"I had hoped that this would have been obvious to you, but it seems the little faith I had in your intelligence was doing you far too much credit." Hux leaned closer to his camera, causing his face to enlarge menacingly before her. "The next time I leave to perform a personal errand it is not a signal for you to do the same. You will remain at your post until I command otherwise. Is that clear?"

"Yes, General."

* * *

Poe was slowly roused from sleep by a gentle but insistent beeping. He rolled over on his cot to look down at BB-8.

"What time is it, buddy?"

/Early. Someone needs to talk to you./

Poe scrubbed his face and ran a few fingers through his hair to make himself appear marginally human.

"Okay, patch it in."

The face BB-8 projected was Maz Kanata's. Poe's heart skipped a beat. She wouldn't risk contacting him unless it was an emergency.

Unlike the rest of them who had spent the last six years in hiding, Maz had strolled right into the heart of the First Order with her head held high. Poe still wasn't sure how she had managed to stay alive. But she had taken over a warehouse in Canto Bight and re-opened her business there, and perhaps the First Order were simply too baffled by her actions to realise that they had the ability to stop her.

Maz didn't acknowledge him. She was in the middle of a hurried, whispered sentence, and Poe realised that he was now part of a three-way transmission with some other participant. There was only one other person who Maz would reach out to.

Leia's voice confirmed his suspicion. "Thank you, Maz. Go now. It's best you don't contact us again, for your own safety. Take care."

Maz cut her end immediately. BB-8 replaced her image with Leia's.

"Something you want to share with the class, General?"

Leia looked graver than he had ever seen her. "Maz had an interesting visitor this weekend. One of Hux's officers. A very young officer, who clearly wasn't used to the party scene, and had a bit of trouble holding her liquor…"

* * *

Elio raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Fire? That doesn't seem very calming at all."

"Not _fire_ fire, not an inferno, but just… a steady flame, warm and light. Hopeful."

He seemed unconvinced, and Rey shrugged impatiently.

"Look, if that doesn't work for you, choose something else. It's different for everyone… I think…"

Rey always had a hard time 'teaching' Elio. The boy was only a few years younger than her, and was a _very_ eager learner. Bridget and Ka'jan could always be made happy with kind words and reassurances, but Elio wanted _answers_ , and Rey simply didn't have them all.

She felt a flutter of energy behind her, but she ignored it, keeping her focus on her Padawan.

"Just promise me that you'll try it at meditation this evening. If it helps, then great. If not, then you'll try something else — no, _not_ that. Not yet!"

"Okay, I'll try finding your 'hope' fire," he relented, shaking his head to whip the hair out of his eyes. Rey wondered if he were too old now for her to offer him a haircut.

"Thanks. Go and find the others, will you? Then we can all get dinner started together."

Rey smiled as she watched Elio crest the hill. Then she waited.

Ben spoke. "You should let him do it his way."

She kept her eyes stubbornly trained on the hill and the sky behind it. She was annoyed that he had gone four days without speaking to her; illogically, because she knew that he had as little control as she did over when and how long they could communicate.

"As he is _my_ student, I think I will let him do it the way I see fit," she replied, finally.

"He's obedient enough to try it your way, but he still thinks you're wrong. All the explanations in the world won't change that. He needs to test his theory and fail, to fully understand the wisdom in what you've said."

"What is the point in me being a teacher to these kids if I don't… you know… _teach_?"

"No one ever taught you about this 'fire' of yours, but you found it." There was something sly in his voice that irritated Rey, but she couldn't figure out if he was mocking her or not.

There was a long pause. Over the years they had become acquainted with each other's silences after they had exhausted their conversation — sometimes the connection just didn't want to break — but this was different. She sensed a purpose in him today. He was waiting for something.

His words came slowly, each one painfully deliberate. "I need your help."

"Okay," she heard herself say.

He didn't acknowledge her response, continuing in the same deliberate tone to talk about Hux, and interrogations, and laboratories. Rey had difficulty following him. She was completely distracted by the strange echo-like quality that his words left in her mind, and something inside her ached as she realised that he had planned this speech meticulously before coming to her.

" _Enough_ , Ben," she cut him off. "I'll help you."

"But you haven't eve—"

"I don't need to. All I need is a couple of days to figure out what to do with my Padawans."


	6. Faith

Rey needn't have worried about how she would explain her sudden decision to send her Padawans back to the Resistance. Finn had contacted her soon after her conversation with Ben to update her on the virus that the First Order was developing.

"So that's what it is," she breathed. Then, realising her mistake: "I mean — I knew something was going on. A disturbance in the Force, you know?"

"Right, Jedi stuff." Finn sounded satisfied with the explanation. "I know that what you're doing is important, Rey, but we need you back here. It's all hands on deck now. We need every single one of us to work together if we're ever going to be able to make a difference here. The time for hiding and growing is over."

She nodded to herself, moved by his solid determination. "I'll send Elio to you — he'll be able to help if there's a battle at the hangar. Bridget and Ka'jan can go back to Poe's base. And I…"

Finn waited.

"I… think I know a way to help. But I need some time."

"Alright, Rey. I have faith in you. I'll see you soon." To his credit there was nothing but affection and trust in his voice.

She smiled as she ended the transmission, her heart feeling full and warm in spite of everything.

* * *

Rey picked her way through the ruins of what was once Maz Kanata's castle, wondering why he had chosen this place. The forests of Takodana were breathtaking, but her last visit here hadn't exactly been pleasant. It was here that she had first felt the Force. It didn't flow into her, through her, the way it does now. It had hit her like lightning. And this was where she had first seen _him_. She had been so afraid of all of it. And now… she wasn't sure what she felt about it now. Now it simply _is_. He simply is.

She and Ben were connected. She couldn't explain it, had never even tried to explain it, but this is where it all began. After the Battle of Crait she had tried to block him from her mind, but it was like trying to use a thin piece of cloth to block the sun from her eyes. She couldn't shake him. Sometimes it would be merely a fleeting sense of him as she went about her morning chores; sometimes he would sit beside her for hours as she meditated. Eventually they started talking again.

There were unwritten rules to their conversations. Lines that they never crossed. He didn't ever ask her where the rebels were, though she felt the question burning constantly at the edge of his thoughts. She didn't acknowledge his role as Supreme Leader, and everything that it entailed. Neither of them ever mentioned Luke, or That Day.

In all those long years she had never once looked at him. She had seen too much in those surprisingly soft brown eyes; knew how easy it was to get lost in them. She couldn't afford that. Not after everything that had happened.

But they were both here now, so she had no choice but to look.

She felt very small.

"Hi," she said, and immediately regretted it. _Hi_?

"You came." His awed tone sent all of her blood rushing to her feet, as if it were trying to escape her body.

"I said I would." She adjusted her arm wrap in a futile effort to keep her hands from trembling. Why was she so affected by his presence? She had heard him inside her mind every day for six years and had never lost her composure; but having him _here_ , in front of her, solid and clear… it was different. Ben looked at her as if he had never seen another living person before.

Rey knew that he watched her every day, keeping his eyes on her just as deliberately as she kept hers away from him. Did he always look at her like _this_? She silenced the part of her that knew the answer.

He reached out for her mind, almost politely, as if she had a door and he was knocking on it gently. She didn't know how to react to that, so she compromised by opening it just a little. The periphery of her thoughts met the periphery of his. It was like walking directly into a hurricane.

She shook her head to clear it. "Look, we're here to talk about Hux, right? Tell me about the virus."

She felt his surprise, though he didn't show it on his face. "Apparently I can't tell you anything you don't already know."

"Then _why_ are we here, Ben?"

"Because I failed." His voice carried that same deliberate tone that he had used when he told her he needed her, and she knew that he had chosen these words long before he spoke them out loud. "Hux knew exactly what resources I had at my disposal, and he made certain that all of them would be completely useless when he cut me off."

Rey frowned, not understanding. "Your resources aren't useless; they're everything that we haven't had for _six years_. We survived, and so will you. I don't have anything to offer you; all I have is a lightsaber."

Ben shifted on his feet, his first outward sign of discomfort. "I have thirteen thousand, nine hundred and fifty-seven Troopers on my Destroyer. And two hundred officers; half of them with questionable loyalties. That's all. Some TIE fighters, but limited ground artillery — Hux's fleet carries all of the walkers, because he was the one who lead any necessary ground invasions." His deliberate tone was gone now and he practically trembled with anger. "My communication systems might take weeks to repair. Most importantly, I have no ships to transport my men to wherever it is they will need to go."

"The Resistance has no ships, either," Rey replied lamely, no quite knowing what else to say.

"No," he said quietly, "but you're working on it. Right now FN-2187 is manoeuvring _my_ men on Naboo to take control of the maintenance sector. Then you'll have enough ships to transport the entire Resistance a hundred times over."

She gaped at him. "How did y—" but of course she knew the answer. He learned it from _her_. After she thought she had been so careful. After she had so stupidly trusted him not to cross their lines.

" _Your_ lines, Rey." He frowned. "And I didn't cross them. _You_ did, though you didn't mean to. You practically screamed it all to me, every single detail, every single night."

He turned away from her suddenly, dark cape whipping behind him, heading with purpose toward the forest. Rey supposed that that meant they were leaving. She didn't understand, and part of her was afraid, so she reached out to her hope-fire and held it close.

Ben turned back looked at her, a glint of humour in his eye, as if he knew something she didn't.

Against her better judgment she followed him back to his shuttle.

* * *

Hux dismissed Ozera so he could read the message alone. She no longer deserved to be a part of his victory after her little weekend rebellion.

He turned the piece of paper over in his hands a few times before incinerating it. Dwyer had a good point. Their small-scale tests had been wonderfully successful, but even the most potent airborne pathogen would take time to encompass an entire planet.

He took a recording chip from his pocket and spoke a single word into it, before handing it off to a droid. "Take this to the doctor."

* * *

"Finn." Rey said firmly, interrupting a long silence.

Ben lifted his head from the pilot's seat and blinked at her sleepily.

"What?"

"His name is Finn," she said. "You called him a number. But his name is Finn."

Ben was completely unmoved. "Very well." He turned away from her to look out the viewport.

She boiled for a moment before unleashing. "And all thirteen thousand of your men, they have names too. Names that their parents gave them, or that they've given themselves… it doesn't matter, they're _people_ , not garbage!"

"I know," he said.

"And _another thing_ — wait, what?"

"Most of them give each other names. Wordplay on their designation numbers, or in honour of some deed they've accomplished, or stupid jokes. But as you say, there are thirteen thousand of them — actually, there are thirteen thousand, nine hundred and fifty-seven — and I can't possibly remember them all."

She stewed, resenting him for his reasonable response.

After a few minutes of silence he continued, so quietly she almost missed it: "I gave myself the name Kylo Ren, but you don't use it. I've never complained."

This surprised her. "Is that what you want me to call you? Instead of Ben?"

He shook his head lightly. "It doesn't matter. They mean the same thing."

"No," she replied stubbornly. "Kylo Ren was Snoke's creation. But _Ben Solo_ kill-"

"I killed Snoke. And Han Solo. And hundreds of others. _I_ did that. I'm a murderous snake; a monster. That's what you're sitting next to. But I'll take you back to Takodana if you want." His voice was calm and steady, but his entire body had tensed. He gripped his armrests so tightly that Rey was sure his hands were bone white under his gloves.

Suddenly there was a lump in her throat, and her breath choked loudly around it.

Ben heaved a great sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul and leaned forward to engage the navicomputer.

"No!" Rey reached out to stop him, hesitating before she made contact. Her hand hovered over his, and they both froze.

"I said I would come."

Slowly they both eased back into their seats. The rest of the long trip passed in silence. Eventually Rey relaxed enough to fall into a light sleep, startling only when the navi beeped to signal their imminent departure from hyperspace.

Ben appeared to be watching the controls in front of him, but his body was coiled again, and Rey knew that he was focused on her.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, feeling a bizarre sense of urgency. "I crossed the line again. Intentionally, this time."

He turned to face her. " _Your_ line. I've never hidden any of this from you."

"I like calling you Ben," Rey said, because she didn't know what else there was to say. "Is that okay?"

He nodded.

* * *

Finn and Elio reached out simultaneously to grasp each other's hands firmly. Finn had already decided to like the boy. After all, Rey had 'raised' him for the last four and a half years.

"Nice to meet you, bud. Rey's told me so— well, she's told me you…" Finn trailed off, realising that he didn't know much at all about Rey's eldest Padawan, apart from the fact that he existed.

"I'm guessing she's told you… that I exist? And not much else." Elio smirked, flipping his head to swipe his sandy hair out of his eyes. Finn wondered if it would be weird of him to offer the boy a haircut.

"Yeah. She's a little secretive,"

"She actually has told me about you," Elio admitted. "Says you were the first friend she'd ever had."

"Yeah, same here," Finn replied automatically. But then he thought for a moment. "Actually, not really. The first time we met she whacked me with her staff and accused me of being a thief." He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

Elio grinned. "Yeah, that sounds like her."

* * *

They exited hyperspace, just as he had planned, at a point that afforded them a full view of his Destroyer. He watched with satisfaction as she took in its size, her eyes widening. She had been awed by the Supremacy, but that had belonged to Snoke. The Resurrection was _his_ , his own; he had earned every inch of it.

A single guard greeted them as they disembarked in his private hangar. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren didn't have the taste for pomp and pageantry that Hux displayed, and Snoke before him. He didn't need the entire ship to celebrate his comings and goings; though he now realised that his lack of ostentation had cost him the galaxy.

The Trooper stood to full attention. His armoured hand clenched and unclenched; a nervous tic. "Supreme Leader, in your absence we have been running diagnostics on all communication channels as you commanded. We haven't found a solution. I have no further news for you"

"Acknowledged, Piker. You're dismissed." Ren glanced pointedly at Rey as he spoke the name, and she glared back with beautiful defiance, but he sensed no true malice in it.

They were alone again, and he lead her to his private quarters in a silence that was almost comfortable. But when the door had hissed shut behind them he stepped back from her, unsure how to proceed. A small secret part of him was terrified that even now she would simply turn and leave. Again.

Rey's scavenger instincts took over and she turned in a circle, examining the room with open curiosity. He was struck by how very strange it was that her presence here was so familiar to him, yet she was seeing it all for the first time.

Her roving eyes paused when they landed on his desk. It was bare except for a single calligraphy pen, looking as though its placement was very deliberate. And it had been, _before_ , when he had thought she wouldn't come. He cursed himself for his carelessness, because of course she would be drawn to it. The wooden shaft was incongruous with the chromasteel that filled the rest of the room.

Completely unabashed, she moved toward the desk and picked up the pen as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to do. She turned it over in her hands, examining from every angle. "You write with this?"

He couldn't help himself. "No, I weave baskets with it."

She looked at him over her shoulder, eyebrows raised to express exactly how unamused she was by the reminder, but he saw her mouth flicker into a grin as she turned her face away from him again.

His stomach flickered, too.

Apparently satisfied with her inspection she replaced the pen, her movements still casual. She began to withdraw, but then paused to make a delicate adjustment so that it was once again parallel with the edge of the desk, just as she had found it.

Ben couldn't take his eyes from her. That pen was his, it belonged to him, he had chosen it. And _she liked it_. He felt the sudden, desperate need to give her something. Everything.

She turned back toward him, giving the room one last scan. "When do we eat?"

He swallowed thickly. "Whenever you like. You're my guest."


End file.
